


Champagne Soaked Misery

by arazialotis



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 02:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15086966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arazialotis/pseuds/arazialotis
Summary: The reader is searching to drown away painful memories by whatever means possible. Although Dean believes he’s doing right by her, their encounter leads to a confrontation of pent up emotions.





	Champagne Soaked Misery

Your mind had become your enemy; protruding into life at random moments with excruciating memories and with thoughts you couldn’t act on - refused to act on. So tonight you were going to battle against it as you often did, with distractions of drinks and unsatisfying hookups. The battle would last long enough for you to win the survival of another day until the intrusion repeated the following night (every other night if you were lucky). But the short term victories never were enough to win the war.

Tonight’s battle would be waged at The Orb Lounge. According to a flyer you saw earlier that day in the victim’s apartment, it was Panic! At The Disco night. You didn’t know exactly what that would entail, but you knew you wanted in. Your wardrobe had accumulated a collection of racy attire since you had last been with the boys. A little black dress, with sections of the sides cut out, would do for the night. The dress left the tattoos that covered the scars on your back and left hip exposed. Along with black stilettos, you wore a black choker and dark purple lipstick to complete the look. Traditionally, you would have never been caught dead in such a style, but time had changed you. Besides, you didn’t want to waste effort in the chase, you wanted to make it obvious what you were on the hunt for. 

You had taken a cab down, though you had initially thought of jacking the Impala. By the time you had arrived, the DJ was already in the full swing of things. Apparently, Panic! At The Disco night, was just one long mash up of any and every emo genre band. The place was crowded and full of wandering eyes. Little did they realize, your intentions were the same as theirs.

By your third or fourth drink, you had allowed yourself to be completely free of thought or consequence so when ‘Victorious’ came on you reached over the bar and grabbed a bottle of champagne. You used some poor sap’s shoulder to boost your way up onto the bar where you stomped your feet, swung back and forth, and sung along to the chorus. You shook the bottle and laughed as the top popped off spraying the crowd. You chugged down what was left. The DJ soaked up your behavior and although the bartenders were annoyed, they had your credit card and would be sure to write themselves in an extra tip.

—

Dean had been through a few bars already by the time he entered The Orb Lounge. He rolled his eyes at the appearance of the crowd and the overly obnoxious music. It was dense but based on your recent nature, it was a place he might expect to find you. He pushed and shoved his way through the crowd trying to get a glimpse of everyone he passed.

The current song faded down. “Let’s keep this party rolling, any requests from the little spitfire tearing up the bar?” The DJ announced over the sound system.

“Don’t Threaten Me With A Good Time!” You yelled from across the room gaining Dean’s attention.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” The DJ bit his lip and transitioned from ‘Victorious.’

You helped up another girl and guy onto the bar, grinding up against them both and passing around a second bottle of champagne. Dean barely recognized you at first, but once he caught sight of the wing tattoos on your back, it was undoubtedly clear. He made his way closer to the bar. It became obvious why a group was crowded around you, from this angle not much was hidden.

Dean caught the attention of a bar tender. “Hey… she needs to tap out.” He ordered.

“Listen man…” He responded. “I know she’s annoying as fuck, but it’s good for business. There’s a bar up the road that would be more your style.”

“I don’t think you understand,” Dean thought quickly on his feet and pulled out his FBI badge. “It’s time for her to go.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, yeah, of course, let me just get her card…” He rustled through a pile of receipts. “Good luck getting her down.”

Dean inched closer to you and stood on the foot of a bar stool to gain some height and your attention. “It’s time to go, Y/N.”

“Dean fucking Winchester!” You squealed. “The party’s just beginning. Get your ass up here!” You pointed to the girl next you and raised your eyebrows suggesting an easy hook up for him.

“Come on sweetheart. Don’t cause a scene.” He discreetly showed you his FBI badge.

You stopped swinging to the music and glared at him; you knew what a phony he was but that wouldn’t matter to the rest of the crowd.

The bartender backed him up. “We’ll call the bouncer if we have to.”

You sat down on the edge of the bar, handing the empty champagne bottle to the bartender. “You’re stooping real low, assface.” You whispered to Dean.

“Are you going to come quietly?” He impatiently challenged.

You slid off the bar and followed him out into the cold night. “What the hell Dean?” You wasted no time yelling at him.

“What the hell? What the…” He repeated your question. “You have been nothing but a spiral of self-destruction the past six months and I won’t stand for it anymore.” He ordered as he grabbed your shoulder forcing you to continue down the street.

You yanked your arm out of his grip. “Is it guilt or jealousy?”

Dean turned around to look at you, his sigh exaggerated by the cold air. “What?”

“Guilt or jealousy that’s driving your savior complex?” You spitefully demanded.

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Neither, it’s about being responsible. We are on a case and you’re acting like a sorority chick on her first spring break.”

“Last I checked, we were finished for the night. So forgive me if I want to go blow off a little bit of steam rather than sulking in my room. Besides, it never seemed to matter whether we were at a bar or in the middle of a police station if some blonde looked your way.” You snide.

“God, what is with you?” He complained, scuffing his heel against the pavement.

“Like you don’t know?” You challenged. “I can’t go back to pretending everything is normal.”

“You lied to us.” Dean passively defended.

“What other choice did I have?” You pleaded.

“I should have never…” He gritted his teeth unable to continue.

“Never should have what?” You continued after he refused to respond. “Invited me along? Given me a place to stay? Treated me like just another one night stand?” You made suggestions to finish his sentence.

“That’s not fair!” He argued. “My whole world turned upside down. I didn’t know if we could trust you… I didn’t know what would happen next.”

“You could have at least stayed to hear me out. I gave everything to you that night! And that morning… the way you looked at me… like I was just another monster on your hit list. Like the past two years had meant nothing!” You paused pushing down the growing lump in your throat. “… And what that led to… My own personal hell, specifically customized just for me. Even your stay there could never compare to what I endured…” You didn’t blame him, but you couldn’t help enjoy watching your words cut through; sharing the pain he had given to you. “So, if it’s not guilt… why are you here, Dean? Why the fuck do you care?”

“… I’m sorry.” He hung his head defeated.

“Please, just leave me alone.” You requested turning back towards the club to drown each and every memory in something or someone.

Your heels clicking on the pavement came to a stop at the sound of his whisper. “Y/N, I love you…” He barely muttered.

So, it’s both then; jealousy and guilt. Your bitterness caged the pull of your heart. You stopped but refused to turn around and face him. “You’re too late.”


End file.
